suitcase?”
“Bus people lost it. Bastards,” he said amicably.
“Bastards,” Tag repeated gleefully, rolling his lips inward when Sam gave him a look.
“Maybe we could make a quick stop, darlin’?” John asked Sam. “I need a few things.”
She had a hundred things to do. A thousand. The first and foremost being checking in on Wade. She needed to report to the news outlets, check on the schedule… But she’d started this, she had to finish it. She couldn’t ditch him now. “Okay,” she said. “A quick stop.”
“So how did Wade talk you into doing this for him?” John asked as they walked to the car. He tripped over the curb and nearly fell.
Sam quickly locked her arm in his. “I’m just doing him a favor.”
“Ah.” John nodded and patted her hand. For a quick beat, his easy smile faded, revealing the anxiety beneath. “Nice of you.”
“Everything’s going to be okay, Mr. O’Riley.”
“John. Call me John.” He looked into her eyes, his mouth curved. “And I bet you make a good publicist, don’t you?”
She decided not to comment on that. In her car, John fastened his seat belt and slid his sunglasses back on. “It’s bright in California.”
Sam checked Tag in the rearview mirror, making sure he had his seat belt on, then pulled out of the lot. “So what brings you to Santa Barbara?”
“My mule-headed son.” John looked out the window at the ocean on his right. “I need something from him, and though he doesn’t know it, he needs something from me, too.”
She didn’t want to argue with the man, but the truth was, Wade didn’t need much from anyone. “You mentioned a quick stop?”
“I need clothes. And cigarettes.”
“Tobacco makes you sick,” Tag said from the backseat in an
John slid him a look. “You’re a quick one, aren’t you?”
“The quickest.”
Sam’s phone chirped. It was Gage again. “He’s been released and is sore as hell, but everything’s okay.”
She released a pent-up breath. “Is he home?”
“He will be, soon enough.”
Sam pulled into Walmart and looked at John. “Is this okay?”
“Sure.”
Sam rushed out of her door and ran around to help him before he stumbled again, but he seemed surer on his feet now. “It’s the damn shoes,” he murmured. “The laces get me every time.”
He was wearing slip-on athletic shoes. No laces. Sam locked arms with him. He leaned on her and grinned. “You’re sweet. Are you Wade’s?”
“That’s… complicated.”
He sighed mightily. “It always is.”
“Tag,” Sam said. “Grab my purse?”
Tag handed it over and they all went inside Walmart, stopping at the McDonald’s first to get John a large coffee to help the sobering up process along.
Then John settled into one of those motorized scooters and took off with a wave toward menswear. Tag hopped into another motorized scooter and would have followed except that Sam blocked his path.
“Aw, man,” Tag said.
She occupied him by taking him to the electronics aisle, where she called Wade’s house to no avail as Tag picked out a light saber that made the most god-awful, obnoxious sounds on earth.
“Stand back, Earthling,” Tag demanded and playfully jousted Samantha in the gut.
“Ow.”
“You’re supposed to fall to the floor in agony and die a slow, painful death,” he said with some disappointment.
“Maybe later,” Sam said. “Let’s go find John.”
With a sigh, he hit a button and the neon green “laser” telescoped in on itself, collapsing.
“Cleanup on aisle eight,” said an annoyed voice over the loud speaker.
With a very bad feeling, Sam craned her neck and took in the sign over aisle eight.
“What happened?” she asked them.
One of the employees wielding a mop shook his head. “No one saw anything.”
Sam dragged Tag up and down the aisles, looking for John. They found him at the checkout. He smiled broadly at them as he unloaded his things onto the conveyor belt. Socks, underwear, another pair of cargo shorts, another brightly colored Hawaiian shirt, and a basketball.
And two bottles of Jack.
“I thought you quit,” she said.
“I did. These are in case it doesn’t stick.”
Sam nearly rolled her eyes, thinking of course it wasn’t going to stick if he had his crutch readily available, but she bit her tongue. She couldn’t comprehend an addiction of this caliber… and it wasn’t really her place to get involved. A thought that almost made her laugh out loud. She was already way more involved than she should be.
Back in her car, she tried Wade’s house again, still no answer. She called Pace, and confessed what she’d done just in case someone had to locate her body.
“Problem?” John asked when she’d hung up.
“No. No problem.” Pace had assured her he’d have done the same thing. Didn’t make her feel any better about blind-siding Wade with his father, even though it’d been entirely accidental.
“Darlin’.”
She met John’s gaze, his eyes surprisingly sober now. “He has no idea I’m here, does he?” he asked.
She grimaced. “Not exactly.”
“Then what, exactly?”
“There was a game today.”
“There’s always a game.”
“Yeah, but today Wade body-slammed into a fence,” Tag said. “He caught the ball though. It was pretty sweet.”
John looked at Tag, then back to Sam. “Is he hurt?”
“Slight concussion and bruised ribs,” Sam said.
“Take me to him.”
She understood the sentiment. She just wasn’t sure Wade was going to appreciate it.
Chapter 23
Sports do not build character. They reveal it.
Once Wade was released from the hospital, Gage drove him back to the Heat’s facilities. Wade moved slowly and carefully into the clubhouse, greeted by his agent and trainers. He heard Gage give a quick statement to the
